


I Will Never Forget (Destiel)

by IAmPrettyOdd



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Destiel - Freeform, Inspired by Supernatural (TV), M/M, My First Smut, References to Supernatural (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:51:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2661035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmPrettyOdd/pseuds/IAmPrettyOdd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has always had these dreams that seemed so real. Somewhere in his brain he knew it couldn't be real, hunting? Demons? Angels? No, it couldn't possibly be true, but sometimes he would let his mind wander. Sam never could really get to Dean when he did this, but no one could anyway. Well except his therapist Castiel. <br/>"Dad went on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days." Oh god, it's happening again. Crowley was going to through a fit, when he saw me day dreaming instead of working. Real Dean tried to concentrate on his work, but the Dean he aspired to be, was hunting. Now before you label Dean as crazy, and send him to the mental asylum, just hear him out. <br/>Sometimes Dean would dream or day dream about this- this 'other' life. Where he was Dean Winchester, the broken, sarcastic, surly, brave hunter, unlike the shy, nervous, clumsy, disappointment they called  Dean Winchester. See usually for most people, no problem they were just day dreams, maybe even fantasies. But for Dean, he couldn't tell what was real, and what was a dream. Was his boss really the king of hell? Did Sammy actually become Lucifer? Or was he just some pathetic writer?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Dad went on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."  _Oh god, it's happening again. Crowley was going to through a fit, when he saw me day dreaming instead of working._ Real Dean tried to concentrate on his work, but the Dean he aspired to be, was hunting. Now before you label Dean as crazy, and send him to the mental asylum, just hear him out. 

Sometimes Dean would dream or day dream about this- this 'other' life. Where he was Dean Winchester, the broken, sarcastic, surly, brave hunter, unlike the shy, nervous, clumsy, disappointment they called  Dean Winchester. See usually for most people, no problem they were just day dreams, maybe even fantasies. But for Dean, he couldn't tell what was real, and what was a dream. Was his boss really the king of hell? Did Sammy actually become Lucifer? Or was he just some pathetic writer?  

Dean sighed, and sent his work to his boss. It had took him long enough, but he finally wrote some bullshit story for whatever local tragedy had happened. Dean glanced at his watch, 7:03 AM. Great now that's two days without sleep, Sam was going to be pissed, if he found out. Or maybe Sam was having the insomnia, because he had no soul? Dean couldn't really figure it out, so he didn't really dig to far into the reruns that played nonstop in his head. 

Dean gets up and scopes the office. There's only a few people, so Dean decided to make coffee, considering it would be better than going home. As the coffee brewed, Dean smiled to himself, and began to tune in to his daydreams. 

"And at best, I die trying to fix my own stupid mistake. Or... I  _don't_  die – I'm brought back again. I see now. It's a punishment resurrection. It's worse every time." Castiel stammered. Dean felt frustrated, but it was because it  _hurt_ to hear Cas say that, to see Cas be like that. Castiel was his guardian angel, Castiel was  _his_. Dean felt Castiel's pain, he didn't like it, he didn't like Cas to feel that way. "I'm sorry. Uh, we're talking about God crap, right?" Dean had found his words. "I'm not good luck, Dean." Cas mumbled. 

"Yeah, but you know what? Bottom of the ninth, and you're the only guy left on the bench..." Dean didn't know whether to cry or scream, he was still mad, but he just couldn't be. "Sorry, but I'd rather have you, cursed or not. And anyway, nut up, all right? We're all cursed. I seem like good luck to you?" Dean ranted, and saw Castiel's expression. "What?" "Well, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I detect a note of forgiveness." Dean was about to open his mouth, but the coffee machine made some sort of noise. Dean stepped out of his dream, and began to fumble with the coffee. 

"Good morning, Squirrel." Dean rolled his eyes,  _not those dumb ass Bullwinkle jokes again._ It was typical, ever since Sam had encouraged Dean to take the job. Crowley took one look, and the nicknames began to form. Dean was shorter than his younger brother, yes he was by 3 inches. He was 6'1'', Sammy was 6'4''. 

"Morning, Crowley." Dean responded. "Are you finished with that report?" "Yeah, the blurb and the headline." They worked at a musical magazine, Treble. It pretty much gave you the news about your rock/metal/punk/screamo bands/ Artists. 

Crowley eyed Dean, "Okay that's great and all, but did you sleep?" Dean sighed, Crowley always knew when he lied so why would he even try this time. "No." "Go home, and don't come back until you have at least eight hours of sleep. I can not have my writers overworked." Dean sighed once more, when Crowley took the coffee out of his hand, and then Dean walked home. 

Dean lived right next to his workplace, in a tiny little apartment. Dean didn't drive, he didn't know how to. His therapist advised against it actually, he said that Dean could easily slip into his own world, and that wouldn't be safe, because of all the distractions. So Sam had to drive him to his therapy sessions, but everything else was convenient; so he could walk.  

Dean somehow ended up in his apartment, he did he daily routine. He took his pills, brushed his teeth, forced himself to eat/drink something other than coffee, and then he slipped into his bed and tried to make the thoughts stop or pause for a moment, so he could finally get some rest. The last one was the hardest, because later today he was going to the therapist, his guardian angel, he was going to see Castiel. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean abruptly woke to a knocking, the exhausted man shuffled towards the sound. Dean swung the door open revealing his unexpected guest. "Good morning Dean, I hope I didn't wake you." Castiel grinned. Dean led Cas into the living room, "What are you doing here, Cas?". Castiel sat on the armchair, confusion painted on his face. "Um, Dean its Thursday." "I know, but don't I usually go to your office?" Dean chuckled. Castiel opened his brief case, ignoring Deans last comment. "So when we left off last Tuesday, you were going to Hell. Is that correct?" Castiel questioned, changing the subject.  "Uh, yeah." Dean replied as he sat on his ancient love seat. "Okay, so what happened next?" Dean shifted in his seat, his face turning a light red. "Well um, I get out. Thats pretty much it." "How? How did you manage to get out of hell?" 

Dean stared at his shoes, he was way too embarrassed to confess. "Well, its kind of personal, and a bit embarrassing." Dean stammered, hoping Cas would just drop it. "Dean." Cas leaned forward and put his hand on Deans knee, "I'm not here to judge you, I'm here to help you." Dean slowly nodded, his face getting redder. Cas was a therapist, if Dean gave him this detail, he would find out that Dean has feelings for him. 

They were weird, like he had known Castiel for the longest time. Just Cas' touch was so familiar it was just so frightening. Like something had happened between them, which was impossible, he had only just met Cas. Anyway these feelings left Dean feeling worthless. So he usually tried to ignore them, which was always easier rather than facing them. 

" A guardian angel, raised me from perdition." Dean muttered quoting the Castiel in his nightmares. "And do you recognize this guardian angel?"  Dean shook his head not looking up from his shoes. "Dean, is there something troubling you?" Dean put on his best  _I am dying here, and I need some rest-_ face, "I just don't feel to good." Dean croaked.  _  
_

"You're taking your pills correct?" Castiel looked truly worried, and that made Deans heart fill with guilt. "Oh yeah, I just need some sleep." "Okay I'll check on you tomorrow okay?" Castiel stood up , and pulled Dean into a hug. "Get better, okay?" Dean nodded. 

Cas let him self out, and sighed. He felt horrible, Dean could't open up to him, so he sends Cas away instead. Why did Cas become a therapist, if he was a shitty one? Castiel knew exactly why, he just didn't like to think about it. He should of stayed, and try harder. But it hurt Cas, to see Dean uncomfortable. Dean deserved a better therapist, that would actually help him. Not a selfish dick, like himself.

Castiel took out his box of cigarettes, and took his last one out. He placed it between his lips, and lit it with the black, familiar lighter. He shakily breathed in the aroma, and blew out the cloud of smoke. Castiel stood in silence, the town seemed dead. Everything seemed dead lately, maybe Castiel was mean't to go to a shrink, not become one. 

Dean was guilty, he probably caused Cas worry, and that hurt.  _Dammit Dean, why do you have to be a selfish bastard?_ His conscience scolded him, Dean really needed to grow a pair , and get all this hidden shit off his chest. But Dean knew if he dug some up, he would reveal the rest. That crushed Dean, barely knowing anything about himself. Knowing more about his fictional monster that he created, and slapped his name on it. In these moments are when Dean questions if this is the fantasy, and the monster he knew and hated was the reality. 

**A/N Sorry for such a short chapter, Its been bugging me that I haven't updated. But I have writers block, so hopefully I can write better tomorrow. See you guys later!**


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